


and then there was one

by frozensight



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone on the ground was already a hero, but the Commandos? They were the heroes of the heroes. Even the colonels and generals seemed to look up to them, and every man wanted to drink with them after a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and then there was one

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the fact my mom and I watched _Saving Private Ryan_ on Monday, and I couldn't help but draw parallels between the troop in that movie to the Howling Commandos and this just sort of spawned from that line of thought.
> 
> It's super gen, but you could kind of see Skye/Tripp if you want.
> 
> The fic is set from 1x17 Turn, Turn, Turn to 1x11 Aftershocks, so you should know what you're in for (at least regarding Tripp).

It was practically legend amongst the men serving on the European front that the troop known as the Howling Commandos had never lost a single man since their formation. Many attributed this to them being led by the man they called Captain America, whose origins were veiled in mystery, but whose results no one could deny. Others chalked it up to the Commandos being a squad of only six guys, which helped them get in and out a lot quicker and easier. Then there were the ones who didn't believe the Commandos even existed. At least, they didn't believe until the Commandos walked through their camp, Captain America at the helm, all of them moving with purpose and somehow larger than life. 

Everyone on the ground was already a hero, but the Commandos? They were the heroes of the heroes. Even the colonels and generals seemed to look up to them, and every man wanted to drink with them after a mission. Because if there was one thing the Commandos knew how to do better than completing a mission successfully, it was _celebrating_ that successful mission. 

Then Sergeant Barnes fell during the capture of Armin Zola, and though all the Commandos were drinking after their successful mission—there was no celebrating. Captain America, who usually had at least one drink with his men, was nowhere to be found until the Commandos were shipped back to London for debriefing. It was a stark contrast, those grim-faced Commandos after that mission in the Alps, compared to the wide, triumphant grins all the men had grown accustomed to seeing. 

Word trickled back across the Channel that after they touched down in London, Captain America had disappeared for a whole day, only to be found in the bombed out bar in which the Commandos had been formed. He'd been trying to get drunk, the rumors said, but he couldn't, on account of being the physical manifestation of pure American patriotism. Some men scoffed at that, saying that hell, even patriotism—pure or not—deserved to get shitfaced after losing a soldier, especially the one who had been your best pal. 

When the war was over in Europe, every man who served celebrated like the Commandos, and many of them raised a toast as well to the name of Captain America, who had given his life for world and country. The whispers about the Commandos grew less, most believing that the squad had been dissolved now that the war was over, but some knew that the Commandos still had work to do. 

Sergeant Dugan's time as leader of the Commandos was a better kept secret, which assisted in their carrying out of covert missions all over Europe as they helped the Allies rebuild. The war may have been over, but the missions were harder. Morita and Falsworth died on separate missions a year or so after the war ended, while Jones and Dernier retired because even Commandos could have enough of death and violence—could want to start families or go back to ones they already had. 

For a short while the Commandos recruited new blood in the forms of Percival "Pinky" Pinkerton, Junior Juniper, and "Happy" Sam Sawyer—who technically outranked Dugan, but allowed the Sergeant to lead the group, considering Dugan's seniority as a member and all. Despite this, the Commandos were disbanded during the Korean War. Juniper died on a mission in Belarus, Pinkerton retired to the English countryside, and Sawyer stayed with the army, eventually making Colonel before dying in Vietnam. Dugan, however, returned to the United States, joined up with old friends Peggy Carter and Howard Stark, and helped them make a real organization out of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. 

By 1974, the Commandos weren't going on missions anymore. They were dead, or trying to carry on with their lives, but they were all still Commandos. Occasionally they’d all meet up for a pint at that one pub in London, long since remodeled after the Blitz, and toast their comrades. The last reunion was held by Dugan all by himself, months before he died in 2010. The Commandos were all gone, having served their country well. 

Then, a couple years later, they found Captain America in the Arctic, and suddenly the Commandos lived again. 

"They were heroes," Tripp would say, wrapping up his story, and no one could argue with the grandson of a Commando. 

Before the end of S.H.I.E.L.D., Skye saw the memorial at the Triskelion that had all the fallen agents' names on it. She'd skimmed it for Barnes, Morita, Falsworth, and Juniper—fingers brushing against the stone as she found each one. Her personal favorite superhero was Tony Stark—tech genius, smartass extraordinaire—but that didn't mean she didn’t appreciate the origins of Captain America and his team. Her appreciation increased after the reveal of Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks, especially when she watched footage days after the fact of him falling from a crashing helicarrier. 

"He's a hero," Tripp said with a smile when he walked in on her watching it, and Skye nodded in agreement. Then they set out to find Garrett and end Project Centipede. 

They only made it through because of the the old Howling Commando gear Tripp had, and between him and Coulson, Skye wasn't sure who was more excited about using it. She rolled her eyes at them as they talked about the Commandos excitedly, as the team—minus Ward—gathered around for a celebratory meal. 

"To the Howling Commandos!" toasted Coulson, having passed glasses of champagne around to everyone. Glasses raised, words repeated, and champagne drunk to the heroes of World War II, who still managed to protect their country, decades later. 

Months later, they inscribed ‘Antoine Triplett’ onto the new fallen S.H.I.E.L.D. agent memorial—the original was lost to the Triskelion—and Skye thought back to the stories he'd told them, the stories that his grandfather had passed down to his mother and then to him. She thought about how his grandfather and the other Commandos would be proud of Tripp, and how Captain America himself would've probably presided over the inscription if he had known who Tripp was. 

It didn't make it easier to accept that he died—trying to save her from the very the thing that turned her into something _else_ —but it did leave her with a drink in her hand, which she raised to the ceiling as she said solemnly to herself, "To the Howling Commandos." 

No one outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. and his family would know who Antoine Triplett was. They wouldn’t know the why or the how of his death, of his sacrifice. They wouldn’t know that he was a good, caring man until the last second—thinking only of his friend’s safety, not his own. No one would ever think of him as an honorary Howling Commando; no one, that was, besides Skye. 


End file.
